


doing the right thing

by SleepyMaddy



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Shot, POV Bill Potts, alt title: the doctor ruins their own life again – more news at 11, before she teleports everyone to outer space, during that? week? or longer period of time when 13 is crashing at graham's, ish?, set at the end of twwfte, this is just 13 being sad for 3k again i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24773311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyMaddy/pseuds/SleepyMaddy
Summary: There’s a very pretty woman wearing a rainbow t-shirt sitting on a bench outside the university’s main building. She’s been sitting here for almost half an hour now. Bill knows this because she’s walked past her at least 5 times over said half hour.(She’sverypretty, okay?)Or: the Doctor wants to make things right and forgets to check the date beforehand
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Bill Potts
Comments: 20
Kudos: 111





	doing the right thing

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [korok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/korok/pseuds/korok) for reading this over for me ily

There’s a very pretty woman wearing a rainbow t-shirt sitting on a bench outside the university’s main building. She’s been sitting here for almost half an hour now. Bill knows this because she’s walked past her at least 5 times over said half hour.

(She’s _very_ pretty, okay?)

Mostly, though, she’s been staring into nothing for that entire time, and the sheer hopelessness that radiates off of her in waves is a big part of why Bill is about to walk past her for the 6th time. It’s never easy to tell, whether people want to be alone or if they need someone to talk to, but she can usually get a read on them. Somehow, this woman is giving off both “stay away” and “please help” vibes at the same time. The former is why every time she’s tried to work up the courage to sit down next to her and ask what’s wrong, she’s only ended up miserably chickening out at the last second. The latter is why she hasn’t given up and left, either.

Attempt number six is not shaping up to be any more successful. Bill takes a deep breath and starts walking in her direction, ignoring the puzzled glances the group of students sitting under a tree nearby send her way. This is it, she thinks. Either she sits down, or she moves on. She can’t keep walking up and down the same tiny bit of road all afternoon –and she’s supposed to be at the Doctor’s office in a few minutes, anyway.

The bench comes into view, and the woman is still there, gaze unfocused, face blank. Maybe some people just don’t want random strangers to interact with them, Bill muses as she reaches her. And that’s fine, that’s completely understandable, and really, she should probably just leave her alone.

She’s almost convinced herself to keep walking and not give the woman another thought, when, just as she walks past her, something clicks.

The woman is completely still. Not fidgeting, not shifting, possibly not even _blinking_ , she thinks. She’s only ever seen one person be this immobile –the Doctor, when he doesn’t hear her come in for their sessions. He sits at his desk and he stares at one of the pictures propped up on there and he doesn’t budge, just sits and stares until he finally notices her presence and moves on like it didn’t happen. If she asks if he’s okay, he’ll just brush her off with a quip about micro napping. Bill _hates_ when he does that.

She sits down.

The woman doesn’t budge, doesn’t give any indication that she’s noticed her at all. Bill smiles, making it as friendly as possible, before speaking softly, trying not to startle her. “Hi.”

The woman blinks. Once, twice, and it’s like watching a statue come to life. She turns her head towards her. Her eyes are hazel –proper hazel, green and brown and mesmerizing– and they’re so grief-stricken that Bill is suddenly very, _very_ glad she decided to sit down after all.

“Sorry,” she continues when it becomes clear she’s not going to get a response. “None of my business but… are you okay?”

Those properly hazel eyes stay fixed on her as the woman studies her, the emotions swirling in them going much too fast for Bill to pick them out. Eventually, she speaks in a slightly hoarse voice. “Fine, yeah, thanks.”

She has a –frankly adorable– Northern accent but mostly, she’s a terrible liar. Pushing would probably be horribly rude, but Bill’s never seen someone who _needs_ to talk more in her entire life, so she speaks again: “You sure? Cause, well, it’s okay if you’re not, you know. And you look like maybe you’re not.”

Ugh. Talk about foot in mouth –no wonder she can’t get a date to save her life. She’s been spending so much time traipsing across space and time with the Doctor that she’s forgotten how to talk to a pretty girl. She’d probably be better at chatting up an alien, at this rate.

Thankfully, the stranger doesn’t seem offended. Instead, her features crease into a faint, but real smile. “Well it’s… Yeah, ‘spose it’s been sort of a long day.” She runs a hand through her blonde hair, revealing a silver and gold metal cuff on the shell of her ear, and Bill tries not to stare. “Long… week, really,” she amends after a second, scrunching her face a little.

Silence falls again, but it’s not uncomfortable, and Bill’s happy to see she doesn’t fall back into that unsettling stillness, instead absently tapping her fingers against the bench. She waits until she’s certain that the stranger isn’t going to elaborate before speaking again. “Tell me about it,” she laughs, sitting back against the bench, hands in her pockets.

She was hoping to distract the woman a little, and miraculously, it seems to work: the smile becomes a bit more pronounced, and she shoots her an amused look. “Rough few days?”

Bill leans into it. “You’ve no idea. I was just on this… road trip, I guess, with some friends. We were in Scotland, yeah? And it was just…” She trails off, because she’s not sure how to summarize “we ran into creatures from another dimension that ate light, oh and also it was the 2nd century and I met a Roman legion” sound like something that won’t get her sectioned. “Let’s just say: everything that could go wrong? Went wrong,” she finishes, hoping the woman won’t ask for a clarification.

Thankfully, she doesn’t. Instead she chuckles –it’s soft, but it’s there, and Bill takes it as a victory. “Yeah, been on a few trips like that myself. They make for good stories, at least.” Her smile fades a little. “Well. Most of the time.”

Time to change the subject. “I’m Bill, by the way.”

“Oh! I’m J–“ She frowns, stopping herself. “No. I’m…“ A beat. Two. _Three_. “Yaz. My name’s Yaz.”

Her name’s _definitely_ not Yaz, but Bill isn’t going to push. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

She frowns again. “No, guess not.” She’s fidgeting with the hem of her coat, giving Bill a glimpse of the rainbow stripe lining the inside. “I’m staying with some friends right now. In Sheffield. ‘s nice.” She starts to smile before seemingly catching herself and shaking her head a little. “’s temporary though. I’m leaving soon. Don’t wanna impose, you know.”

The way she says “impose” reminds Bill of the Doctor when she talks to him about paying rent or taxes and he tries to say something in response –like he’s not quite sure what it means, but he’s vaguely aware that it’s something that’s probably negative. The familiarity of it makes her smile.

“So what brings you to Bristol, then?”

It’s the wrong question; the woman’s face falls, the spark of happiness extinguished in a blink, as her features slide back into that blank, closed off expression from earlier. Bill tries to backtrack, a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. “If you want to share, obviously. You don’t have to.”

The stranger shakes her head a little and attempts a small smile, and Bill almost wishes she hadn’t; it looks almost painful. “I had, er, news. Something I had to tell someone, something important.” Bill doesn’t need to ask if it’s good or bad news. “Usually, I wouldn’t have bothered but… I don’t know, felt important to do the right thing, you know? To be kind. Or try, I suppose.” She lets out a sharp, self-deprecating huff of a laugh. “But it looks like I got the timing a bit wrong. I do that a lot, seems like. I was hoping I’d gotten better at it.”

Her phrasing is puzzling, but the words are almost drowned out by the guilt that seems to be crushing her. Bill focuses on trying to alleviate that, at least a little. “And that person you were gonna tell,” she starts slowly, “you know them well?”

She shakes her head, and her whole body follows the movement, swinging almost imperceptibly from left to right and back. “It’s several people, actually. And no. Barely ever met them; one of them I haven’t met at all. But I just thought–“ She winces as her voice cracks. “I just thought they needed to know, yeah? Cause I think that’s worse –waiting, and never knowing. That’s probably worse, yeah?”

Something about her voice is so fragile and unsure that Bill finds herself nodding before she can really think about the question. “Yeah, probably is,” she mutters and the woman closes her eyes, nodding to herself a few times. “But… you’ve got here too late?” Bill continues hesitantly, unsure of whether she might be overstepping.

“Oh, no.” She reopens her eyes and lets her head fall backwards, staring at the sky for a little while before continuing. “No, I got here early, for once. Much too early. ‘s not _strictly_ my fault, either, although I suppose I _could_ have checked.”

She’s making less and less sense, but Bill doesn’t let it faze her –after almost a year of travelling in time, odd verb tenses and adverb choices aren’t that jarring anymore. “Well, then, that’s good, isn’t it? Means you can fix it. You can come back later, at the right time.”

That short breath of a laugh again, as she looks down at her hands on her lap. “Yeah, I suppose. Not sure I’ll do it, though. Like I said, not big on looking back, me. Only reason I did it now was, well…” She shrugs, hesitating before suddenly continuing at twice her previous speed: “There’s this friend of mine, Ryan, his name is, and recently he… Well, he ended up waiting for someone. He _needed_ that person to be there and they never showed. And, I was just thinking… Well, she’s never going to show either, but it’s not _her_ fault and I… I don’t want them to think that she let them down, yeah?” She lets her head drop forward a little, blowing out a long breath. “So I thought I should tell them. That she wouldn’t come back.”

Her voice is so small, so defeated, that Bill’s condolences stay stuck in her throat. “You’re right,” she says instead, “that _is_ important.”

The woman nods, leg bouncing a couple of times before she speaks again. “Yeah, I know. And I’m trying to be better, yeah? Be kinder, all that. New me –like a new year’s resolution sort of thing.” Bill doesn’t point out that it’s currently September. “But I’ve no idea how long that’ll last, and, well. I think that by the time I get to come back here, it might not seem so important. It’ll still _be_ important, but I’ll have found an excuse not to do it.” She sighs, shoulders drawn. “Don’t know myself very well yet, but that sounds like me.”

There’s something almost familiar about her tone, and Bill wishes she could see her face, but it’s hidden behind a curtain of blond hair as she keeps her head tilted forward, gaze fixed on her knees. She also seems _much_ more miserable than before Bill sat down at all. Since her original goal was cheering the woman up, she can’t help but feel like she’s gone wrong somewhere. She decides she might as well try and fix it –in for a penny, after all. “Tell you what,” she says with more enthusiasm than she feels, “let’s make a deal.”

The stranger turns her head and shoots her a confused look from behind her hair. “A wha’?”

Bill sits back straight, turning to face her properly. “A deal. You do that thing you don’t want to do but should do, and I do that thing I don’t want to do but should do, and _wham_ , _bam_ , just like that, we’re both better people for it.”

She slowly straightens up, pushing her hair out of her face, and Bill holds in a sigh of relief when she sees a little bit of that guilt disappear under a curious half smile. “What’s your thing?”

Bill twists her mouth a little, thinking over her phrasing before she speaks to make sure it doesn’t include anything that would make her sound like a lunatic. “So these friends I mentioned, yeah? From the road trip? Well, one of them, he’s our driver, sort of, like it’s his car we’re using. And he’s got this friend, and she’s honestly–“ Terrifying. Very probably a literal murderer. An actual psychopath. “–kinda intense. And he’s been trying to convince me to go on a trip with her for _ages_ now. And it’s really important to him, because they’ve known each other for so long, and, I don’t know, honestly, I think they might have been married at some point? Anyway, doesn’t matter, the point is, I’ve been saying no because she really gives me the creeps. But I know it’s important to him, so I should get over myself and at least try, yeah? Be a good friend. For his sake, if not for hers. Definitely not for hers,” she adds with a laugh. That laugh is cut short when she catches sight of the stranger’s expression. “Hey, you alright?”

As cliché as it sounds, she looks like she’s just seen a ghost: she’s staring at Bill, eyes wide, skin ashen and mouth parted like she’s struggling to speak –or breathe. The expression’s so intense that it takes Bill a little while to even recognize it as what it is: panic. The woman is completely, utterly _panicked_.

Bill tries to think back about what she said, tries to find what might have scared her like that, but before she can come up with anything, the stranger snaps out of it and looks away. “I’m fine,” she finally manages to say, but it’s with barely a trickle of voice and honestly is the least convincing display of _fine_ Bill has ever seen –and she’s been travelling with the Doctor for months.

“You really don’t look fine.”

But she’s already shaking off Bill’s concern with a wave of the hand, and when her eyes land on her again, she’s almost managed to get rid of the haunted look –almost. “Sorry, yeah, fine.” She clears her throat. “Sounds… complicated, your thing.” She hesitates, wringing her hands together in her lap. “Maybe you shouldn’t do it, if you don’t think it’s safe.”

Her attempt at changing the subject is more than transparent, and Bill is still ready to catch her if she suddenly collapses –which she’d looked like she was about to do just then– but she still shrugs at her words. “Nah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s… _proper_ scary, when she wants to be, but, you know. I’ll be with the Doctor –my friend, I mean, that’s what he calls himself.” She smiles. “So long as he’s around, I’m as safe as I’ll ever be.”

This time, the stranger turns her head away quickly –but Bill would’ve sworn she’s seen her wince, like she’s been physically hit. “Hey–“ she starts, only to be interrupted by the bell tower loudly ringing the hour. “Oh, _great_.”

“You late for something?” Bill turns towards her, and the change is bordering on eerie: the woman’s features are smoothed into near perfect casualness, a curious tilt to her eyebrow almost managing to hide the hint of hurt that still shines in her gaze. Whoever this woman is, Bill thinks, she’s a much better liar than she originally seemed to be. It doesn’t reassure her –she knows from experience with the Doctor that no one gets _that_ good at hiding their emotions without some serious practice.

A big part of her wants to stay, pry a little more, and make sure that this woman with the hazel eyes and the oddest fashion sense Bill has seen on this campus in a long while is okay, that she’ll be alright in the long run. _Another_ part of her however is very, _very_ aware of how prickly the Doctor is going to get if she’s late to tutoring again. Oddly enough, that part of her seems to be getting stronger, almost _unnaturally_ so, but–

“You should run, if you’re late,” the blonde woman continues, her smile softening. “Don’t wanna keep you.”

Bill shakes her head, but she also distantly realizes that she’s shouldering her bag. Soon enough, she’s standing in front of the bench, without really remembering how she got there. “Sorry,” she says with a wince. “It’s just, my tutor –well, that’s actually the friend I was talking about, but it’s not, like, weird, I swear– anyway, he’s kinda particular about time, so I should probably, er…” She awkwardly points at the building behind them with her thumb, shifting from one foot to the other.

The woman nods with that same soft smile. “Course, yeah. Go ahead.”

She makes it two steps before turning back. She thinks she already knows what answer she’s going to get, but, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “Are you still going to be around later? We could, er, I don’t know. Meet up? Go for a drink?” She resists the urge to cross her fingers behind her back.

“Oh!” The stranger beams at her, and for one glorious second, Bill thinks she’s somehow managed to turn this trainwreck of a conversation into an actually successful flirt. She grins back at her, tilting her head to the side.

The woman’s face suddenly shifts into complete, utter shock. “ _Oh_. Oh, right, oh, er.” She scrunches her eyes shut for a second, her mutterings almost unintelligible. “Right, cause. Yeah, forgot about the whole…” she trails off, gesturing at herself with her thumbs. Eventually, she reopens her eyes and smiles awkwardly. “I don’t think that’s uh. A good idea. For, well, for _so_ many reasons, really, you don’t want to know. _Trust me_.”

Bill vaguely thinks she maybe ought to have been offended by such a thorough rejection, but the sheer entertainment value of seeing her waffle about for this long makes up for any disappointment. She laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.” She sighs, concern still sitting heavy at the back of her throat. “You take care, yeah? And don’t forget about our deal!”

“I won’t.” For one moment, the stranger lets the mask of casualness drop a little and smiles at her so fondly that Bill suddenly feels certain that they must have somehow known each other for years. “Thank you, and…” her voice falters a little, but her gaze doesn’t. “You be careful, Bill Potts.”

With one last smile, Bill waves her goodbye and makes her way to tutoring –she’s late, but she’s sure the Doctor will overlook that once she tells him she’ll do one – _one_ – test trip with Missy after all. Nardole will probably be a lot less enthusiastic, but she can take his complaining.

It’s only hours later, when she walks past the now empty bench on her way home, that she realizes she never told the woman her full name.

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes you just miss bill potts a little too much and then this happens
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr: @taardisblue


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